La Grenouille
by Levana Fay
Summary: Chapter 2 added for those who like happy endings. What did he do to you,Jenny?" My first fanfic. My interpretation of why she hates the Frog.
1. Chapter 1

La Grenouille

Summary: What did he do to you, Jenny? My interpretation of the reason she hates the Frog.

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"_What did he do to you, Jenny?"_

The words full of concern from the one man she wanted, the one man she loved, almost made her break down and tell him everything. What had _**He**_ done to her? He had tried to break her. Ducky was partly right. He uses his sophistication to get what he wants, but when that fails, he has people working for him to do things very differently.

She has never been able to remember how she got there; she just recalls waking up on a comfy single bed in a brightly furnished, homely room. The room had been small, with autumn colour carpets, curtains and an open fire with a table and chairs to one side of it. The room had also contained two men. A blonde man she didn't recognise and La Grenouille. Instant terror had gripped her and she had tried to get up but her body had felt too frail to move, a splitting pain appearing behind her eyes. She must've been drugged. How, she didn't know.

She must've made some sound to alert them, as they had turned to her. Once they had seen she was awake, La Grenouille had sat at the table uncorking a bottle, while the Blonde man had withdrawn a knife and advanced on her. He'd reached down to her on the bed she was laying on and her blood ran cold. _God, no!_ She tried to pull away but he'd gripped her hair, and pushed her head down to the side, forcing her eyes to connect with the older mans. The Frog poured his cognac while he spoke to her, but she honestly couldn't remember a word he said. She was completely drawn in by his cold eyes and his amused smile at what was about to happen to her. The lackey plunged the knife down her shirt, tearing it open slowly. She flinched as the cool metal skimmed her body, the sound of tearing cloth loud in the small room. She memorized the old man before her, already swearing to herself that she would kill him, for herself, and all the people who were being killed by his weapons. The lackey pulled the remnants of her shirt apart, groping her bared skin and rubbing himself on her thigh. Pure revulsion made her sick to her stomach. She had been praying that he'd just kill her and not do anymore.

The frog had held out a glass to him after a few moments and the blond man reluctantly walked over to his boss to retrieve the brown liquid that _**He**_ seemed to love so much. Psychological torture, making her believe she had a chance to get free while his back was turned, when she knew full well that the frog had a gun. The adrenaline coursing through her system made her feel more awake with each passing second. She experimented with moving her hands and feet, too terrified to be more subtle. Her heart rate sped when she discovered she could move with relative ease.

_You're a damn good agent, Jen. _

His voice had sounded in her mind. She had focussed on the sweet memory of her boss turned lover, making love with him in the soft light of that loft, their bodies heated, and the bliss of just being with him. Calm descended almost immediately and she suddenly knew how to get away. This guy might have a knife, but she was a trained NCIS Special Agent, she wouldn't just give up. The frogs lackey realised she was getting flighty and returned to her side, pressing the knife to her chest and sharing a joke with _**Him**_. His mistake was taking his eyes off her. While his head was turned, she reached up and grabbed the hand holding the knife, twisting his thumb so he dropped it. La Grenouille was shocked but he recovered fast, he clutched his gun, removed the safety and emptied his barrel. She reared up twisting the guy in front of her so he took the bullets, and then kicked him towards the frog, getting up and running for the door as he fell on his boss, the bottle of alcohol and glasses smashing beneath his weight. She had made it back to her safe house without another incident.

It had never occurred to her that she could end it then; her only instinct had been to run for her life. She wished that she had had the strength to pick up the knife and kill him then, but she hadn't. People were still dying because of her mistake. She had to rectify that, no matter what the cost.

"_What did he do to you, Jenny?"_

The words full of concern from the one man she wanted, the one man she loved, almost made her break down and tell him everything.

Almost.

"_You have no need to know, Agent Gibbs."_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A.N: This one is for SarahShalomDavid who asked for a happy ending.

It was late, the night janitors were finishing their rounds, audibly thankful to find only scrunched up paper on the floor, instead of peanuts, like they had had to scrub out of the carpet a few nights ago. Most of the NCIS agents, including Gibbs and his team, had left the building and gone home hours earlier, making the building silent and sleepy. Director Jennifer Shepard was one of those that hadn't left yet. She was still in her office at quarter to midnight, sitting in the dark, lost in memories of a nightmare she'll never forget as she stares at the photo of her own personal monster. La Grenouille, aka Rene Benoit, the man who had kidnapped her and sat back to watch as she was assaulted by one of his men. She was here, staring at pictures, because she felt she had to. She had to confront her fear of this man, so that it couldn't paralyse her as it had back then. If only it worked like that.

It was strange how her dreams were haunted only by Benoit, not the man that had groped and almost raped her. He hardly factored in at all, the role being taken over completely by Benoit himself. 'The eyes are the windows to the soul', someone had said. If that was true, then la Grenouilles soul was a dark, twisted abomination, hiding behind sheets of ice. The bitter eyes pull you in, blinding you to the rest of the world, as the man himself destroys your life.

She wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to protect herself as she once again felt the phantom hands assaulting her, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps as the cold terror paralysed her. She tried to convince herself she was safe now, that he couldn't hurt her, but his eyes taunted her. She was back in that room, she could see him raising his glass of Cognac to her, saluting the sport she was unwillingly providing as the cold metal of the knife sliced open her shirt. She began to shake uncontrollably as he smiled at her, not even leering, just perversely smug to have control of her body and her life. She didn't realise she was whimpering, the horror playing out in her mind making her unaware of what she was really doing.

Strong arms suddenly surrounded her and she flinched, trying to get away from the vile man before he touched her again. The man held on and gently stroked her back, the familiar scent of sawdust, Bourbon and coffee invading her senses. _Jethro?_ She couldn't understand how Jethro had found her; she didn't even know where she was. How had he found her? He was supposed to be tailing his mark around Paris.

"It's ok, Jen. There's no one else here. You're safe."

He softly wiped her cheeks and she was shocked to feel tears running down her face. He kissed her head and turned her to face his chest, away from the photo of Benoit, grounding her in the here and now. She became aware that she was no longer in that dreaded room. She was in her office in NCIS headquarters, kneeling on the floor by her desk, Jethro kneeling in front of her, stroking her hair and making hushing noises to calm her down. She burrowed further in to his embrace, sobs wracking her small frame, her fists clenching in his jacket, just holding on to the feeling of safety that he could provide with his very presence.

"You want to tell me what this is about?" Gibbs asked softly. She knew he wasn't going to take no for an answer now that he had witnessed her breakdown, but she couldn't even form a sentence. She shook her head slowly, gasping between sobs, trying to calm down. She felt him move one of his arms away, picking up a remote to turn off the screen displaying La Grenouille in an attempt to prevent her from having another panic attack.

"I thought you went home."

"I did, but I came looking for you. You weren't at home so I figured you'd still be here. I didn't expect to find you like this." He pressed another kiss on her head. "You were back in Paris. Is that when you met him?"

"How do you know-?" she was stunned that he knew where it had happened.

"You asked why I wasn't tailing my mark and how I'd found you."

Shock and embarrassment suffused her being as she realised she had been speaking out loud and she couldn't help but wonder what else she'd said to him while she had been trapped in her mind. She felt one of his hands move from her hair to her chin, raising her head so they could look in to each other's eyes. His other hand tightened around her back, making sure she still felt safe and secure.

"What did he do to you, Jenny?" His question from earlier in the day, the one she had ignored so coldly. She couldn't lie to him when he was so close and the memory of her experience during her abduction was so fresh. The emotions were chaotic but his proximity and genuine concern was helping her sort through them.

She spoke quietly, telling him everything that had happened to her, what she had undergone and how it had nearly made her give up. She began to cry softly as she told him of the man touching and groping and how Benoit had been watching everything. She told him about the moment she had realised she wouldn't just lay there and give in, how she had escaped. Then she told him how guilty she felt now, knowing that all of the people that have died since then from the frog's weapons could have been saved if she had just killed him when she had the chance.

Gibbs released her chin once she had finished her tale and she immediately buried her face back in his rather wet jacket. He wrapped his arms around her waist and helped her to stand up before manoeuvring them to the couch. He helped her to sit, trying to make them both comfortable.

Now that he knew what had happened to her he could try and help her through it. He wouldn't be surprised to find out that she had never told anyone about it. She was a strong, stubborn, independent woman who was afraid of failure and never wanted to appear weak. He could understand that. He had many of the same qualities. It hurt that she hadn't confided in him back then, they had been lovers after all. He was glad that she had at least managed to get the man that had assaulted her killed, because if he was still alive he would've hunted him down and killed him. Her hatred of the frog was much easier to understand now, but that much harder to know how to deal with.

"Jen, we will get him. The Frog can't run forever."

"He can! I've been trying to get him for years! He always gets away or he was never there in the first place! He uses decoys and always has the proper paper work-"

"Jenny! Look at me." She stopped speaking and gazed at him. "Do you trust me?" She nodded without hesitation, and he felt his heart swell at her confidence in him. "We will get him. No one can be lucky for so long. He will make a mistake and we will be there when it happens. Pull DiNozzo out of whatever you have him doing." She started to protest so he put his finger on her lips. "Trust me. He won't make a mistake if we close in too fast, he'll cut his losses and go in to hiding. Tony will just be a hindrance to the investigation if he's doing two jobs and not awake during either. Have you looked closely at him recently? He's exhausted and distracted. We can take the Frog out from afar." He ran his fingers over her lips gently. "I need all my team on the same page."

"You'll really help me take him out?" He moved his hand to her cheek; she kissed his wrist and then leaned closer to his face.

"Jen, in the words of Abby, 'all you had to do was ask.'" He grinned at her and brought her lips to his for a sweet and soft kiss. They both withdrew, smiling at each other. A chance that they both thought had passed them by long ago had caught up with them. He took her hand and they left the office, heading back to hers, where Jethro would hold her through the night, making everything better.


End file.
